The One Who Sings
by HaloFin17
Summary: Two lovers of music meet and discover that they have even more in common. Chance encounter between Maglor and a Mermaid. Oneshot, not intended as a romance. Please enjoy!


**Summary: **Two lovers of music meet and discover that they have even more in common. Chance encounter between Maglor and a Mermaid. Oneshot, not intended as a romance. Please enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **It's my first attempt diving into the massive PotC fandom, but it's still true that I own nothing and no one. Everything belongs either to Disney or the mighty Tolkien estate.

**Author's Note: **Yes, my friends, I am still alive; and yes, I do come to you with yet another crossover. Evidently, I want a character in virtually every major fandom to meet Maglor, whether they agree to participate or not; he's just such a versatile character in any universe that it's impossible to get tired of writing with him. I actually had this idea the first time I saw the fourth PotC movie several months ago, but I didn't have enough material in my head to actually work with until now. Overall, I'm pleased with how it turned out, so I hope you all will enjoy it, too.

And to all my readers of "Honor" who may be viewing this oneshot with mixed feelings of relief and utter betrayal, I freely admit that I've been most unfair to all of you, and I do apologize. Please take some encouragement in the fact that I'm currently rereading the _Silmarillion,_ and it's definitely making me want to pick up that poor neglected story again. Rest assured, it has not been forgotten.

**The One Who Sings**

The South. It had been many years since he'd last seen these shores – centuries, in fact. And it was not that he disliked these lands, or that the music of the Sea was any less alluring here. But at the end of it all, there was something oddly comforting about the familiarity of the North – even if his own worst memories also dwelt there.

Soon he would turn around and gradually retrace his footsteps back northward; for it was summer now, and the days stretched long and hot. Even nights like this could be stifling beside the omnipresent humidity of the Sea.

Songs of various sorts left his lips as they always did, almost without any conscious effort on his part; he was only ever vaguely aware of the exact tune he sung. Over the years, it had become as natural to him as the sound of his own breathing, or of the waves from which he rarely strayed. The Sundering Sea was calm tonight, with the surf gently rolling rather than crashing in as it often did.

"Are you the one who sings?"

His song stopped, arrested by unfeigned surprise. The unexpected voice was female, and enchanting in its own right; but what shocked the singer most of all was that it had come from the ocean. He turned his head to the West, visibly as composed as ever, though by no means prepared for the peculiar sight that met his eyes.

As her voice suggested, the lady in the water was beautiful – almost immortally so. She was slender with smooth, white skin that appeared impervious to the passage of time; her long hair was slicked back by the water, descending in a waterfall of dark gold locks behind her back. She wore no clothing that he could see, a fact strange yet perhaps understandable in consideration of the sultry climate. And even in the pale moonlight, her riveting blue eyes were bright with the intensity of their admiration.

He did not recognize her to be one of his own people, but certainly she was no common mortal, either. His instinctive question of whether she had survived a recent shipwreck died long before it reached his lips for utterance, for there was not a trace of fear or toil in her countenance. Could it be that his song had drawn this "sea maiden" in from the deeps, then?

But despite her beauty, there was also something decidedly unsettling in the creature's unwavering regard toward him. What he had first read to be admiration he now realized might also be interpreted as desire, even bordering on raw hunger. And if this was so, what did she hunger for? He must proceed carefully.

"Are you the one who sings?" she pressed him again.

"I am," he answered with reserve, star-grey eyes never moving from his uninvited audience. He did not bother to ask her name, as her own interests apparently dwelt with other matters.

She smiled sweetly at him, revealing a set of teeth like pearls. "I have never heard a song so beautiful. How can it also be so sad?"

"Sorrow lends beauty to my music; each note is a tear shed by my people." He was intentionally cryptic in his reply. After all, she would not understand a detailed explanation, nor was he in any humor to provide one. "That is why I must never cease to sing, for those tears are without number."

Her smooth brow puckered in a frown. "Tears are precious things. Why do your people share them so freely?" She was brazen, but by all appearances innocent in her curiosity.

His ageless eyes stared past her then, lost in the tides of memory. Her ears would have to be keen indeed to hear his hushed response above the surf. "I can recall a time when laughter came more easily to us than tears; but there is little to laugh about now, and so much more that is worthy of our grief."

At that moment she came further into the shallows, moving forward with easy, rolling movements as though she were propelled by a dolphin's tail. A curious clump of colorful seaweed appeared to trail in the wake of her approach, and only when she was quite near did the singer realize that it was in fact a tail which constituted the lower half of her body. Remarkable! Truly, he was not aware of any created being which matched the description of the maid in front of him, nor had he heard of any immortal spirit assuming such a form.

"You are no Man."

_And you are no woman, _he thought to himself before answering with a simple, "No." Only then did he notice that her expression toward him had softened considerably.

"Are you the only one of your kind?" he questioned, not caring if some might have called it impertinent. If she could be so very bold, why could he not be as well?

"Not at all," came her light, tinkling reply, "for I have many sisters in these waters. Are you the only one of your kind, then?"

"Not the only – but the last. I had many brothers, once." And at that, he found he could say no more.

"Is your race known to Men?"

That last word, he was certain, had carried more than a hint of disdain in its delivery.

"Not known in any living memory," he replied carefully, secretly relieved that she had changed the subject for him. "Such knowledge of us as there is survives only in the sort of tales that are told to children, and even that lore has so diminished us in their minds that they would not recognize me for what I truly am."

She nodded, appearing to study him closely. "Yes, you do look enough like them that they might think you one of their own. I did, at first. But my sisters and I can be mistaken for nothing other than what we are, and for that I am sad."

He now frowned in his turn, genuinely puzzled. "Then, verily, you have proven that I am no Man. For I still do not know who or what you are, yet I can testify that your beauty is of a kind such as I have only seen among my own kin of old. Would you truly rather be forgotten, as we are?"

"Better forgotten than hunted." Her eyes, and her voice, were suddenly as sharp as flint. "Tales are told of us as well, but there is enough truth in them that the learned seeker may still do us great harm."

The sea maiden seemed to entertain no doubts about the veracity of her last remark, but the singer himself was not entirely convinced. For indeed there was something irrefutably dangerous about her aura, though it was no longer directed at him personally. He could not help but believe that as long as she remained within the water, she should have a distinct advantage over any adversary that might come her way. Yes, surely no Man could pursue her without placing his own life and limb in mortal peril!

"Do you sail, my singer? Shall I hear your voice again out on the Sea?"

Her words brought a sad smile to the bard's face. "Nay, fair maiden. You will find me no further West than I am now." And as he spoke, he was suddenly forced to wonder if this lovely creature had ever swum far enough to glimpse those precious white shores of his motherland; and even if she could travel that far, would the Powers permit her such a glorious sight?

He addressed her again. "You are most fortunate to dwell within the music of the Sea. I have only ever sung beside it, so that the waters are little more than a harmony to my melody. I envy you that beneath the waves your own song is but a part of something infinitely greater, and much older, than your span of years may comprehend."

He had spoken truly, even if she was a deathless being like himself. And she evidently agreed, for her smile returned in its full strength.

"Yes, it is as you have said. But even in all the melodies of the Sea, I have never before heard a song like yours." Her words must have been sincere, even as his own had been, for she wrapped her long, porcelain arms around a nearby boulder and leaned eagerly toward him.

"Sing for me some more."

And even though he knew she would never understand his words, Maglor sang for the Mermaid until dawn broke through the night.


End file.
